Firelark
by Penrose Quinn
Summary: "Well, I believe firelarks are not meant to spend their lives behind cages," he smiled at her without pretense or jejune. "They are best liberated." Two-shot
1. In her cage, she dances while he watches

**A/N: **All right! I sort of made another one. Haha, I couldn't stop the plot bunnies scampering in my mind. First of all, thank you for getting curious and reading this story of mine. Second, I couldn't help but write something for Jae-Ha, especially when he was - and _still _\- a full-fledged womanizer in Awa (and anywhere) before he joined the group and the fact that he is a bit - from what I've noticed, I guess - unpopular. I mean, people see him as a womanizer, but his character has more depth than that, considering the fact that he has a strong value for liberty albeit a bit reckless.

Yet again, it is not my intention to offend anyone or any ships out there, but if you do not like OCs, please do not read it if it displeases you. But if you're still going to read it anyway, go ahead. I'm not stopping you there.

Warning: Mild language and an emotional rollercoaster (well once you delve deeper in the story, I guess).

Lastly, I hope I did justice to Jae-Ha's character!

**Terms:**

**Makgeolli **\- is an alcoholic beverage native to Korea. Traditionally, it is served in a large metal or wooden bowl from which individual cups and bowls are filled using a ladle.

**A/N 2:** I'm not really paying attention, aren't I? I apologize. Apparently, I missed the part that someone called her in her real name albeit the fact that no one calls her in her real name, except for Jae-Ha. So really, you can call me an airhead for that but I hope you can excuse my distracted mind.

* * *

_In her cage, she dances while he watches_

* * *

Evenings in the small port town of Awa were the most unnerving for a menace skulked behind the shadows of the streets. Albeit the dread that flooded the houses, many brazen souls pursued to roam the ink-stained night for the sake of resisting the hideous realities that dampened their morose lives, and to be tantalized, intoxicated, and be absolutely _pleasured _for an arduous night drowning in a purple dream of endless ecstasy and mania.

Amidst the thriving red-light districts and taverns from the dark corners of the streets, there was a bordello bestowed a titular for being, 'The fantasia of a sinner's dreams'. Hongryeon, an impressive, splendid brothel, was said to have the finest women, who were guaranteed to create whatever desire a man held into a reality. It was rumored for lavishing men with the most exquisite, sensual experience of a lifetime.

Although, what made Hongryeon unique among its rivals was that these intrigued people would be enchanted and mesmerized to catch a glimpse of the _Firelark_.

The bellows of jovial laughter, both lush and sober. Men, from state officials to commoners, were littered with wide grins in their faces once a woman or two were draped in their arms. Colorful lights glittered alluringly upon the grand room. The scent of tobacco, blossom-scented perfume, and sex hung heavily in the air. Truly, it was a paradise for pleasure-seekers.

"The Firelark, hm?" said the awfully satiated, curious voice of Jae-Ha as he glanced at the courtesan, who was entwined on his strong bicep.

Ah, what was to be expected with the descendant of Ryokuryuu if he himself is one of the many hankering souls who would love to have a taste of life's most exotic, tempting graces? Entering a fine bordello and sleeping with a woman was no surprise if it was him. Though, he did come to this place, saved for his prime reasons, for the said entertainer who appeared and enthralled her victims in nightfall.

"Oh, yes," was the response of the charming maiden named— Bohee, was it? "The Firelark is a jewel here. The entertainer everyone adores. Every man would want to sleep with her— if they were given that chance, that is. You're very fortunate because she'll perform this night." Though her tone was mellow and seductive, he could sense that somewhat sour tone in her voice.

"Is there a particular reason why she only performs in rare nights?" He took a sip from the rim of his half-empty saucer.

Her shoulders shrugged, exposing more of her sweetly scented flesh from the ends of her sleeves. "I do not understand why she would do such."

His lidded, verdant eyes flicked at her in interest. "Well, you seem to know the Firelark."

"I am not particularly fond of her— at least, more so outside the stage," there was that slight contempt prevailing in her softly spoken, mild words. "Are you curious if she can be as good in bed as much as she is in stage?" she chortled at the whiff of surprise displayed by his visage.

He humored her a fascinated smile— maybe, a bit too charming for its own worth. "Is she?"

Before she could utter a word, the lights snapped shut darkening the entire room. Then, a sudden flash of light flared up again onto the empty pavement in gold, orange, and red. Avid tongues were silenced. Gazes were prodded at the pavement in utter anticipation and excitement. The customers were drawn at the deft movements of the emerging figure. To his surprise, he could not cease gazing at her. At the Firelark.

Captivating music was played, and then she begun her dance of enchantment. Her foot spun her with an elegant whirl brushing her crocketed shoe against the high pavement. Her adroit limbs splayed with fluid and alluring twists and motions to her audience's liking while her hips rocked along the wild, staccato beats of the drums. Passion and unrestrained enthusiasm gushed through her dancing with an enthralling surge.

Gold and silver embellishments garnished her entire form making her glisten from the reflected light— even the smallest flash of her skin appeared to glow in the dulled lamps. Her marvelous, scarlet twin fans, tufted with expensive plumes of wild tangerines and golds, flailed by the nimble twists and flicks of her hands. Her loosened, prolonged sleeves wafted along with her skirt flaring for the people's delight. It made her appear like the graceful, flaming bird they remarked her to be.

Her hair was wild and free, her fiery curls springing in spry. Beads, blossoms, and a golden headpiece swayed with her to and fro as if it were being consumed by a heap of flickering flames. Not only was her dancing charming, but her own beauty as well. No wonder men begged to sleep with such a woman. Her appearance made her appear exotic and desirable.

There was something wrong. Although, her performance was spectacular, Jae-Ha was perceptive enough to notice the kink in her behavior. There was a silent, melancholic mien misting around her. Even her remarkably daubed face could not conceal her forlorn. She was like a beautiful, endowed bird pleasing the blinded eyes of many in her furbished, elaborate cage.

With one last twirl, the Firelark gave a bow earning contented applauds and awe-stricken praises. Then, she strode away within the beaded and silken curtains.

"Jae-Ha," a delicate voice sweetly chirped in his ear. "Impressed?"

A smile then curved his lips. "Very."

"Are you willing to see her?" Another chortle. "Or maybe, get to spend with her for a night?"

"She is quite captivating," he remarked frankly. "Why do you ask, Bohee?"

"Nothing much, really," said the musing courtesan. "But I might get you to meet her."

His brow arched dubiously. "What are you plotting?"

Instead of gracing him a satisfying answer, she struck him with another question. "Would you like to meet her or not?"

Unsure, he replied, "I suppose there is no harm in it." He drank the very last drop of his liquor.

"All right then," she beamed in mirth. Maybe, this little ploy of hers might bear fruit. "We should settle in a quiet room now, no?"

* * *

She was the daughter of a _whore_.

Indeed, that was what she was called and naught more but a child borne from scandalous pleasure and wedlock.

Filthy child.

Pitiful child.

_Bastard_ child.

"Firelark! Bohee is asking for Makgeolli!"

Placid and less enthusiastic, the earnest woman rose from her idle musings and begun to comply the task given— or rather, _shouted _at her. Heading to the lower grounds where the pantry and cellars were, she weaseled a ladle and a porcelain bowl, along with two cups, a jar, and a wooden tray, then started pouring into the said bowl the contents of the jar which contained the rice wine. Finishing the deed, she proceeded gingerly with a tray and porcelain ware in her hands.

Her sandaled feet sauntered steadily. Out of ennui, her cinereal gaze wandered at the pristine and flamboyant corridors she grew to detest over time. Ah. If there was anything to describe Hongryeon, it would be a first class _whore_house gussied up with over the top fittings and decor for the swines to swoon over to lavish their spare capitals for a night with a bunch of minxes, whose beauty can par with their stupidity.

Harsh. Of course, Min-Seo had always been that way.

Especially, if she was an unwilling captive to such shameful place.

Much to her displeasure, some lowly men whistled once their beady eyes caught the sight of her— goodness, some even winked licentiously. Disturbingly. Ah, and worst of all, most of them ogled her with lechery. It perturbed her and she _loathed_ it. She knew well enough that time will dawn upon her and turn her into a _woman_— the center of desire of any libertine. If she only had enough authority in this place, she would have slandered those filthy rakes till they wished they had never done such a thing. _Pigs_.

But, this _was _a brothel. What can she expect?

Finally faltering, Min-Seo found the extravagant chambers of Bohee's client. _Special room, hm? _Albeit being a woman who did less to mingle and lend an open ear to trifling hearsays, she heard - or rather, eavesdropped - the said client's reputation in this bordello. Astoundingly, his visits always enlivened the moods of the prostitutes, kissing the ground he walked and showering him with flattery and remarks. He was _worshiped _here.

On the other hand, she barely met him— or even caught the slightest glimpse of his so-called "perfectly chiseled face". The only inkling she ever had of that man was, aside from bedding Bohee in this particular room, no less than to be a pig-headed debauchee like the rest.

With a sharp sigh, her hand slid the door open and sealed it inaudibly after she went inside. Unwary of her surroundings, she did not expect a figure loom before her petite frame. Startled by the stranger's presence, she ineptly stepped the hem of her garb, unintentionally dropping the tray onto _him_. A blare nicked the silence.

Jae-Ha did not exactly expect his clothing to be smudged by liquor, especially if he was agile enough to resist this plight.

Damn. She wasn't always _this _disgraceful with her footing. Her face was creased in frustration. Apparently, more on the mess she made than the man she had spilled alcohol to. The callous maiden gave him a short, scrutinizing glare then proceeded crouching down to the wooden floor to gather the porcelain shards using the tray. Well, he wasn't wounded.

His placid emerald beauties could not help but curiously ogle the woman before him. Auburn locks, which were held by a band, draped the small of her back while some wispy strands brushed her visage. Clearly, he could notice the youthful glow she held yet the sharp features and scrunches she made contradicted his conceptions. Then again, she did not appear flustered when she unintentionally spilled wine on his clothing, but rather stern and accepting of her blunders unlike the women he met before her.

Hm, quite refreshing from the sight of flushing faces and dreamy glances.

_Interesting_.

So this was the famous Firelark.

Hasty treading rustled the wooden floor. A supple woman with a crown of brunette locks scampered to the man with concern. With a worried moue, she clutched onto his arm as if her life depended on it. "Jae-Ha, are you all right? Your clothes are soaked." Was her syrupy remark— too disgustingly saccharine and mawkish.

Min-Seo glouted in repulse. My, my, what a nice way to lure another libertine. "Hmph, the man's fine. It's not like he'll get scorched with wine."

Sniffing in vexation, Bohee said in placated choler, "Firelark, it is best if you acted decently in front of a customer, no?" her lithe arms clung closer to her customer, quite alluring and a tad bit possessive.

Rolling her eyes, she ignored the pair. She would rather continue her menial chores than humor petty whores. Finally collecting the last shard of porcelain from the ground, a slender hand was gallantly reached out to her. A suave smile was graced before her sight.

"It would be best if a lovely woman, such as yourself, not lower before me."

Her hand coldly slapped his fingers away.

"I did not lower for you," Jae-Ha caught the sight of her fierce eyes, daunting and roughened from an opulent amount of hardships. Orbs of slate-gray, framed with long, dark lashes. He could have said it was a striking sight, if not for the hostile, unrelenting glower in those twin pools of ash. "I lowered because of my mistake." She rose haughtily through her feet with her chin raised and her gaze unwelcoming.

"How dare you—"

"Indeed, I dare."

The chestnut-haired prostitute snarled in ire.

_Sharp-tongued as well_, thought the descendant of Ryokuryuu.

Another voice intervened in a pacified yet irate tone. "What is the meaning of this din?" mouths were sewn shut when an elderly woman went in the chamber with her arms crossed. A smoke pipe was intertwined within her scraggy fingers and an unimpressed frown tugged her crimson-smutched lips.

"Choon-Hee-sama, she spilled wine to the customer and dared to insult his presence." Accused Bohee in an arresting voice as she pointed the auburn-haired woman.

Her beady eyes landed at the troublesome lass delving for an answer. "Is this true?"

Her lips thinned solemnly. "Yes."

With a miffed sigh, Choon-Hee approached him placidly, the silk of her own elaborate clothing tailing behind her. "Pardon that insolent girl for ruining your attire with wine, but as compensation, she will prepare a bath for you and will attend to your needs until you are fully satisfied here."

Her gray orbs flew open in muddle and sheer roil. "Choon-Hee-sama, I believe my contract here is to work for menial tasks, **not **to fulfill customers' whims!" the ginger-haired maiden protested defensively, raising her voice several pitches higher.

"Hold your tongue, girl!" chided the galled elder. "You've caused our customer trouble enough!"

"I do not mind at all. A simple mess like this is harmless enough," Jae-Ha beamed with assurance, which mollified the heightening tension among the women in the room. "Though, I would look forward meeting this fiery maiden later on." He winked at her from afar, which she scoffed in peeve.

"If that is what you wish." She gave a respectful dip of courtesy. "Bohee, you will entertain another customer."

Her dun-colored head bobbed submissively. "Yes, madam." Her arms released his clothed limb, disappointed to not hold it if it was bare, as she strode outside of the chamber. She glanced at him at the corner of her eye, then smirked mischievously as if she was saying - _Good luck with her._

Her ebony eyes then nippily glared at Myung-Hee's disgraceful daughter. "And you," her sandaled feet neared her unfazed form as she whispered harshly, "Be grateful." With that, Choon-Hee walked out of the room in prim and austere strides, leaving the pair alone by themselves. Only Min-Seo knew what she meant, and she loathed the gist behind it. Be grateful to _her_, for not making her _satiate_ his carnal whims. _Damn her._

His twin pools of calm emeralds glanced back at the chafed woman, who did no such thing as to look at him nor even spare him her words. Or even those oh so bitingly delicious retorts of hers. "You're quite a troublesome woman, aren't you?" A lax smile greeted his lips.

Her dark brow cocked. "Trouble finds its way to greet me." She shot him an unimpressed glare.

Well. Though that glower of hers stung, it did push him to know what more her lips can conjure than dart her tongue in another man's mouth. "You don't seem pleased to see me."

"I do not."

The descendant of Ryokuryuu chuckled at her bluntness. "And why not, dear?"

It did struck her in a halt once he uttered such endearing phrase, but completely ignored his words. "Does it matter?"

A charming smile— no, more of a delighted smirk that desired for her presence chiseled his lips. "How much must I pay in order to sleep with you?" well, that was something to admire for not many brave hearts could withstand the burns that she left remorselessly onto their battered chests. None of those lovesick fools could even hardly smile anymore. Yet, he did _and_ he seemed to _love _those barbing words of hers no matter how nipping.

A grim glout tugged her mouth. Crossing her arms huffily, Min-Seo snapped in dark ire, "Unfortunately for you, I do not work here as a prostitute."

His green irises broadened at his own obliviousness, his breath slightly hitching. Her disclosure had utterly befuddled him. The Firelark, the fiery bird enchantress of the night and the desired woman of willing men, was _not _a courtesan. She was not in Hongryeon to _titillate _the repelling libido of unsated, pitiful souls. Nor was she one to bootlick a man to bed her. She was none of the conceptions he had conceived, and that alone made him feel a biting pinch of guilt.

"Pardon me for accusing," he placed his hand humbly to his chest in deep regret. "But if you are not what you say, why do you work here?"

"None of your concern."

"If you say so," he replied in an accepting voice, then another smile was drawn in his handsome visage. "Ah, what may be your name?"

The auburn-haired woman paused for a moment. They never asked for her name before. They always called her 'Firelark', but never her name. Never the name her shameful mother gave her in this world. Some bit of her callous heart felt somewhat...light. She shook her head. It did not matter. He had _no _effect to her, and he _never _will.

"Min-Seo."

How fitting.

"A lovely name from an equally beautiful woman," he remarked gallantly. "I am—"

"— does not matter."

"Jae-Ha."

Much to her vexation, he still kept beaming.

* * *

"It's prepared, like what was said."

Before she could even attempt on leaving him behind in his room— in his _bath_, Jae-Ha called out behind her, "Where are you going?" he voiced out his words, not in curiosity, but in unmistakable frisk and gay amusement. Teasing was a fitting word to describe his query.

Much to her annoyance, she paused, hotly blowing a stubborn strand from her face, and turned to meet that utterly juvenile, larking grin of his. "I am not going to aid you at this point." A sour glout tugged her lips as she crossed her arms defiantly.

Then, there was that unblushingly impudent answer she detested to hear. "I believe you will."

Her jaws tauted. Her balled fists were blanching from her iron-like grip. He really was trying to test her patience. Damn him. "Well, you strip yourself," scrunching the bridge of her nose, Min-Seo frowned distastefully. "I won't taint my eyes with your nudity."

Grinning mischievously from ear to ear, he teased, "Ah, the vehement Firelark is a virgin."

Well, she was not granting him any opportune to see her blushing. "I am proud that I am still one up to this point." Her chin tipped proudly. At least, her virginity was unsullied unlike the willing prostitutes in this brothel who allowed unworthy men to deflower them.

"It intrigues me how long it will last."

"It will last until I say so."

"And if I do something about it?"

"It is terrible to play with fire."

"That's what makes it interesting." Was his remark. In an attempt to see her flushing face for a worthy tease, he thoughtlessly - _intentionally _\- began to unbutton his collar, his fingers stripping the expensive fabric before her wide, exposed eyes. "Well, I suppose I am fine by myself, unless you want to—"

Before he was even given a chance to finish his sentence, she abruptly slammed the door in front of him. Real hard. The descendant of Ryokuryuu might have pressed her buttons too hard. He might have even heard her spat a curse behind her breath. Virgins were always quite fun to tease.

He snickered in response.

* * *

The moment the jade-haired man stepped out of his bath, respectively dressed and spruced, he sought for the Firelark, who might have found him as the peskiest bacterium that ever crawled under her skin. A soft laugh was released by his mouth. She really was quite an amusing woman albeit glaring at her victims with piercing spades.

His emerald beauties easily caught sight of her listless form. At the moment, she embodied broodiness, extinguishing her blazing flare and chafe. Wistful, aloof, and immersed in the depths of her musings— strangely, almost troubled. Troubled? To be honest, when she danced upon the pavement, that familiar melancholic air roamed about her. What was she troubled about?

Then, his scrutinizing gaze trailed down from her face to her hands, fumbling, opening, and closing— almost irritated and impatient. His eyes broadened once he saw her pale fingers. They were _bleeding_.

"Your hands."

Flabbergasted by his presence, she tucked her fingers in her palms and hid them behind her back. "Shouldn't concern you." Said Min-Seo in an indifferent tone.

Swiftly taking hasty steps towards her, Jae-Ha gently took her wounded hands as he inspected it thoughtfully. He cared little if she did not permit him to grasp her hands or if she wanted to lash him with her wrath. Concern weighted his chest more than her foul impressions on him. It peeved him for a bit that he did not even notice her bleeding when she gathered the broken shards earlier. She did not even seem bothered when she was cut. At least for now, she did not make too much movement to rip her hands away from him.

"Let go."

He was reluctant to speak as he payed no heed to her words.

His placid glare was prodded at the cuts and callouses patched on her fingers. His green eyes softened at the sight. He wiped the thin, streaks of blood through his crisp sleeve, lightly brushing the small wounds. Ah. The touch of her hands were rough akin to the hands of a laborer, yet they appeared so frail and slender. These gentle hands. He mulled what horrid tasks her hands had undergone to make its skin crack and blister. What terrible undertakings she had to perform to make her callous and untrusting to others.

He took a small compact from the inside pocket of his clothing. Good thing that it was handy too. It was fortunate news that they did not take his clothes away albeit being drenched earlier with alcohol. It was a bit risky divulging his identity through the astonishingly amount of knives and weaponry he had hidden underneath the fabric.

"You should be more careful at least," opening the compact, his finger swiped some plaster and gingerly rubbed it onto her cuts, making her slightly tense from his touch. "Especially, if you still need these hands when you perform." He smiled amiably at her, worry somewhat overtaking the affability of his eyes.

Slightly wincing, she said with a rueful smile, "Well, I have nothing to worry about," a dry chuckle rumbled from her throat. "Since what they watched earlier ago is one of the final appearances of the Firelark."

The descendant of Ryokuryuu snapped his glance at her. "Why do you say that?"

"Soon, I will finally leave this godforsaken place."

Finally releasing her hands from his clutches, he questioned pryingly, "What are you truly doing in this place, Min-Seo?" to his disappointment, she did not grant him anything, but a nipping glower and her silence. Ah. It was supposed to be none of his business, and that it was most probably a personal matter that she did not wish to disclose to anyone, especially to a _stranger_. "I understand if you don't want to answer." Was his response, which caught her baffled.

"Why do you care so much?" she said in a nonplussed, demanding octave. "You hardly know me and I even insulted you. Shouldn't you hate me for it?"

Those twin pools of mossy green gazed at her with such sincerity and resolution that it almost ignited a pleasant feeling of hope in her chest. Inspiring her lost desire of freedom. Making her fetters a little less painful and a bit lighter. It was an appeasing gaze. "Well, I believe firelarks are not meant to spend their lives behind cages," he smiled at her without pretense or jejune. "They are best liberated."

She was rendered speechless.

No one had ever spoken those words to her. Never to her. Never to the endowed bird they had kept unfairly in her cage.

Yet, he did.

The first and only one to say such words her ears pleaded to hear.

_Why did you say that to me?_

"You..." she mumbled unconsciously. "You confuse me."

Catching her words, he asked in intrigue, "Why so?"

Finally composing herself from her perplexity, she cleared her throat and shot him a deadpan reply, "That was none of your concern."

He said in mirth, "May I visit you again?"

"I am not a courtesan."

"Then, may I at least seek your company?"

"No."

"There is no harm in it."

She frowned at the thought of his constant meddling and flirting if he truly did plan to visit her. "You'll only distract me in my work."

His eyes glistened playfully. "Oh? So you find me _distracting_?" he cheekily leaned closer to her.

Her brow twitched. "And annoying." She added bitingly.

His hand mockingly clenched his chest as if he was in great agony. "I'm wounded, Min-Seo!"

A sigh rolled off her lips. "Are you done?"

A lighthearted laugh intervened. Smiling genuinely, he enunciated with an enlivened spirit, "Well, I'd still like to meet you again."

Min-Seo would have retorted that his mere presence was a nuisance, but she merely quelled her mouth, to her utter surprise and likely his. He was a fool, she thought in her vexation. No, maybe _she_ was the fool for not even having a morsel amount of willpower to respond back to him that she wanted him away from her— away from her miserable life, and that maybe in some twisted, pathetic way, she would end up regretting saying such words and he might not be heartened enough to even gaze back at her again.

Though, she was selfish for not even uttering a blistering reply. Did she even want him to return back to her? She wished she did not. He was resilient. He did not mind her sharp tongue that could wound like a knife. He accepted that course nature of hers in his own amicable, foolhardy way. He was undoubtingly kind. He was different. For a moment, she cursed why she found him _different_ in the first place. He could have made it easier for her— to simply snap at her and walk away. Alas, he did not.

_You confuse me too much._

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Akatsuki no Yona.


	2. Out of her cage, she soars while he awes

**A/N: **Finally, we conclude the story with the second half. Oh, yeah...remember what I said on the first half where Jae-Ha seemed unpopular? Wow, I was so dead wrong haha. I went to see the archive again and there was a lot of OCs being paired with Jae-Ha, which confirms that he has gotten the popularity he deserves. Well, I'm happy knowing about that. All right then, thank you for reading again and I really do appreciate the support and reviews. I hope it isn't too terrible and confusing.

Just a bit of a side note here, but you can go ahead and read the story. I was doing a bit of research in France then for some odd reason stumbled on _Moulin Rouge_ (which was a great movie I encountered when I was a bit younger btw). Just when I was finishing this story, I was like...woah. The coincidences are strange. I even laughed my ass off when I saw it. Moulin Rouge (Red Mill)...Hongryeon (Red Lotus)...the almost same, twisted circumstances...the _cabaret_...wow, I seriously did not expect that. Not that I'm saying it's both exactly the same, but it had some bit of similarities which even flabbergasted me haha.

Warning: Mild language, dark themes, an emotional rollercoaster, and um, well, just be prepared for the sultry scenes. This _is _about Jae-Ha after all.

Lastly (yet again), I hope I did justice to Jae-Ha's character!

**Terms:**

**H****aegeum** \- is a traditional Korean string instrument, resembling a fiddle.

* * *

_Out of her cage, she soars while he awes_

* * *

Nightfall had dawned. At that moment, the sky was a capacious, inky sea that drowns the restless heart of a man into the deepest pits of solace until he finally drifts away in a sedative, wistful haven of his dreams, pearled with flaring stars and embraced with darkness too aphotic to prove that his crepuscular euphoria is naught more but a fancy to the dawn of reality's glaring light.

In serene times like these, Jae-Ha would lounge at the deck and play his haegeum so superbly as if he was portraying his admiration for the beauty that the moonlit firmament bestowed upon him. This was one of his most favored past times— other than, piddle his precious hours with lovely women. He admired the peace as well though it was short-lived with the crew's utterly atrocious snoring from bushing themselves from recently attacking a ship smuggling a drug from the Kai Empire that fortunately did not surface at the port.

He sighed softly as his fingers played the instrument louder, more dulcet and soothing for his ears alone. Such a noisy bunch. Nonetheless, he smiled to himself, sliding a small chuckle at the thought. For some random reason, he could not help but mull that it had already been a few days. Ah. Maybe, he should visit _her_ again.

Then again, the descendant of Ryokuryuu had not faltered meeting her several times for the sake of intrigue and companionship and in an attempt to shed some light from her callous exterior and to understand her compelling plight even though she found his mere presence naught more but a bothersome nag. Nonetheless, it was not disappointing as she wanted it for him to be. Their interactions were always amusing in his opinion— _addicting_ if she glowered at him with that blazing fire in her eyes.

He chortled again. He should definitely visit Min-Seo tomorrow.

A voice snared him from his train of thought.

"You're in an awfully pleasant mood lately."

Jae-Ha ceased playing once his placid, emerald beauties caught the sight of the all too familiar figure emerging out of the shadows. The scent of tobacco and the salty breeze wafted the air. "You think so?" he curled his lips into a charming smile— maybe, a bit brighter than it should be.

Captain Gi-Gan may have surpassed the years of her prime, but it would not mean that her perceptiveness was withering as well. Whiffing a puff of smoke from her smoke pipe, she neared him with an inquisitive glance and a blunt reply. "Have you been screwing around with prostitutes?"

Pleased of her forthrightness, he mocked hurt while uttering in a slight teasing tone, "You make me sound like I am a shameless debauchee, Captain Gi-Gan."

She simply huffed. "You are."

"Well, I've met an interesting woman," he stated mirthfully, his eyes gleaming in awe. "Strangely, she reminds me a bit like you. She's headstrong though a bit unapproachable and intimidating."

Interested, she pried further with raised brows, "Oh? So this woman has managed to tame you?"

"She knows where to burn me where it hurts."

"And you enjoy it, don't you?"

"I would be lying if I didn't." An amused chuckle rumbled in his throat though it faltered soon with a pensive look glazing his eyes. "But, she..."

His gaze wistfully landed upon the inky blanket mantled on the sky, decked with the luminescent moon and clusters of brilliant stars. A lone bird fluttered about, its little wings flitting towards the horizon as if sought for the dawn of the day. For a moment, he had thought of that insolent yet infatuating woman, who strove desperately to free the binds that kept her firm from escape— the invisible chains that clung to her.

_Never ran away from that place._

* * *

"_Always look your best, girl, and maybe a pretty face might earn you a few more coins."_

All her life she had breathed onto those words and eventually learned to spit it out in pure repulse. As long as the bastard child possessed the beauty that her shameless mother once had, she was enough to replace her. Enough reason to take responsibility to an _unwanted _chit. Her childhood was caged within the confines of Hongryeon. A world barren of friends or warmth but perpetually being hurled with toil in the day while nightfall was plagued with howls from rough, wild intercourse.

Her child self feared the blares and the rattling in the night. She feared the coldness that enveloped her room without the embrace of a mother or a gentle voice to coo her to sleep to the point that she had to rush her small legs to Choon-Hee's bedchamber only to be gratified with an aloof glare and a harsh reproaching. She feared this bordello and the taint and darkness it had— the wanton men who paid sex for pleasure and their predatory eyes.

She feared the day she would be bought too.

At thirteen years of age, the day she feared the most came— she bled for the first time. When they were informed that the girl was ripe enough to be bedded, they taught her the art of coquetry and some bit of carnal knowledge. A captivating smile could attract attention. Utter a few sweet nothings and he will be wound in your little finger. Spread your legs for him and satisfy him a passionate night meant your job was done.

When a man twice her age took interest in her, Min-Seo felt her blood run cold and the dread pummel her frail heart. Her purity will be deflowered to an unworthy libertine. Though, her first night did not come according to plan for she ran away from him when he had already stripped her from her clothes. Naked and pitiful, she begged for Choon-Hee to spare her from being robbed of her virginity and in return she would do anything to repay that debt.

For once, Choon-Hee considered her request out of pity from her pathetic groveling and because she was just a hapless victim from Myung-Hee's consequences and past misdoings. Knowing the girl could only stay in her extravagant brothel for at least seven more years, she gave her a proposition in exchange of avoiding prostitution. Thus, the Firelark of Awa was born.

But it did not grant her years of peace and protection from the lechery of men or the inner turmoil with the other harlots. For those relentless years, she learned to face the hurdles that awaited her each passing hour and to fight obstacles everyday with the invisible fetters bound on her feet. She developed a tongue that could wound, a scowl that could make a man cower, and a character best resisted when encountered till no one wished to be involved with her.

Min-Seo was disillusioned in humanity. Camaraderie was a just dream— something incomprehensible to her. Trust was a child's fancy. Love was just another mystery so foreign to her own armored heart. After all, her world was full of madmen, buxom wenches, and depravity. It was supposed to be that way until she could finally unshackle the chains that restrained her— till she reached for her freedom.

But, _he_ had to confuse her of her own views of life.

"Miss me?"

She harshly shut the window with a strident slam.

_He'll leave. He'll leave. He'll leave. He got himself up there. He _can _get himself down._

As if he read her mind, he announced behind the window, "You know, I don't exactly plan on leaving given my position." It was not like he can't just soar away, but he really did have to convince her.

Sighing in annoyance, she reluctantly opened the window. "You're here again." She deadpanned, shoulders drooping glumly.

It had always been a habit of hers to open the only window of her room when morning rose so she could relish the rosy blush of the dawn and the pleasing sea breeze. Though, it was disturbed when a certain rake was well informed of where her bedchamber was and for some unknown reason he managed to prop himself on the _window_. How he climbed up here without the use of any ladder or at least _something _was still awfully boggling to her no matter how she did not disclose her interest on the matter.

Jae-Ha flashed her a charming smile as he leaned near her unimpressed face. "I'm surprised you acknowledged my presence." Was his blithe remark, freewheeling and slack as usual.

A sigh rolled off her ruddy lips. "I'm surprised I haven't pushed you down yet." She said caustically but she really did reconsider the idea.

"You could try."

"Idiot."

Much to his surprise, her hand grasped his wrist and hauled him down, causing him to roughly tumble towards the wooden floor. Though the act really did cause him pain - frankly, he really did not mind the pain at all - he was perceptive enough to permeate through the intent behind it. In some twisted sense, she pulled him inside so that he could avoid falling though due to her hard-bitten nature she showed no ounce of gentleness in executing the deed.

Her feet neared the window and then finally she basked before the magnificent scenery of the morn while her auburn locks flourished from the light gust. With the proud beams of the sun warming her pallid cheeks, she breathed in and then released a puff of air from her mouth. For a moment, she really did not mind if he saw her revering the sight of the morning as long as he did not pester her.

He simply glanced behind her, watching her heartily. The moment she traipsed to the window, she looked like a normal girl who cherished the dawn, and the thought alone made him smile.

Noticing the signs that meant that her leisure was coming to an end, he interrupted boldly, "I'm pleased to know that you were actually concerned for me, Min-Seo." Then, he stood from the ground, dusting his silken attire.

The Firelark sighed once again— a mollified sigh. "You'll attract attention," was her pithy excuse while her hands softly closed the window. "If you're here to waste my time again, I suggest you go down the hall and fool around with a courtesan."

Chuckling from her uninviting response, he crooned playfully, "But I came here specifically to meet you."

"That doesn't concern me," she said nonchalantly. "Are you going to leave my room?"

The descendant of Ryokuryuu sent her a drolly retort. "Only if you plan on leaving as well."

Once more he proved to be more troublesome than he had bargained. "Do you not feel any shame at all?" her utterance was best for rebuking which effortlessly riveted his attention.

He paused for a moment. "Well, I don't fancy the thought of disrespecting women," he admitted, musing sedately. "But like I've said before, I simply wanted to meet you."

Her slender brow arched. "Through the window?"

"You shut the door in front of me once."

"Can't you meet me like a normal person?"

"You'll just ignore me."

"Aren't you going to tell me how you got up there?"

His dark brows raised out of intrigue while a frolic twinkle settled in his green irises. "Finally curious of me?" he teased.

A frown dappled her mouth at his smug words as she crossed her arms huffily. "You owe me an explanation." She reasoned in a peeved yet collected tone, but at the back of her mind she truly was curious of how he implausibly transported on her window without the aid of anything or without anyone noticing no less.

"I jumped up here."

Her gray-slate orbs icily glared at him. As expected, she was obviously unconvinced. "I really should have pushed you down there if you think I'm going to believe that." Barbed the ginger-haired maiden.

"How cruel," a remark hopped out of his lips. "But it was the truth."

Paying no heed to his words, she granted him a cold dose of her silence and began to tread away from him though he was as persistent as her as he stalked behind her. A despondent sigh left her mouth. _This is the reason why the other prostitutes hate me more than they should..._

He would always be there for her, like a tail behind her back— or maybe, a person most people dubbed as 'friend'?

Though she found him more of a pesky tick and greeted him with frosty nonchalance and a dagger to his chest, he did not mind the livid bruises from the repetitive blows of rejection or from her brusque way of weaving words. If anything else, he seemed to relish every wound he would attain like a souvenir after every banter and would collect himself again with the same fervency.

A lax smile to his lips, a wave of his hand, a flashy welcome to snare her attention, and a few gentle words to make her listen— and then finally, she would turn around and realize that Jae-Ha was here again. Though there came days that his presence was absent, he would eventually make up for it with his gimcrack entrances and approachable behavior.

At night, whenever she danced on the pavement her ashen irises would always spot him seating and watching nearby - he did stand out with his odd-colored hair - with an emboldening simper and a captivated look from those twin pools of mossy green. At those times, she would avert her eyes whenever it met with his. He would always be distracting because she knew that he was the only one who gazed at her that way.

Not down at her, not as a pretty doll, not as a center of desire, not as the Firelark, but as a _person_.

Maybe, a good person.

And through those times, she always pondered to herself:

Did she still want him to leave her?

That was the question she did not know how to answer.

He was a good person but he deserved someone else worthier than her. Someone with a pure soul and flawless hands and a back free of scars. Nothing could change her or her past or the perverse world she lived in.

Min-Seo was _afraid_.

Afraid of dragging his expectations down to a drain and setting it aflame once he knew who she was.

Yet she was selfish. Maybe too content in indulging in the thought that there would truly still be compassionate people willing to break her chains, and maybe fantasize that in another world he might just accept her. She wanted to believe that. She truly did. But expecting too much would always disappoint in the end. That was what her life always raspingly thought her and she accepted that bitter fact nonetheless.

Her feet halted. She craned her neck and noticed him still tailing behind her.

Detecting the pensiveness in her eyes, the green-haired man glanced back at her with a tad bit of concern. "Is there a problem?"

"You don't plan on leaving me alone, do you?"

His verdant orbs widened but soon softened from the dourness of her eyes, a peppery shade of iron to dusky lead. Her bright, red flare dwindling into a morbid, blue flame. "If it truly settles you, I don't mind leaving you by yourself for now." The sincerity and genuine worry of his voice was apparent like sheer glass. Well, it was least of his intentions to upset her. Or worse, distress her.

For a moment, she stiffened though settled herself instead with a sigh. "Did you really _jump_ to the window?"

It did gravel him that she gave him another question to engage him in a different conversation than an answer. He simply chortled. "Well, I see no reason deceiving you." He simpered but it did less to make her believe him.

She sent him a skeptical glare. "Unless you're making fun of me."

"But I could never tell a lie to you, Min-Seo."

"That enough proves your lying."

In the end, she never said that she wanted him to leave her.

* * *

Little did she know, some small part of her grew to like his company...

* * *

_Finally..._

All those years of sacrifice, of humiliation, of endurance was finally over.

Min-Seo was free.

She was finally _free_.

A burst of mirthful emotions and alleviation swirled on her chest— the feelings that made her toes curl in delight or pushed her to leap in a spate of excitement. The torment of her subduing days was behind her. No longer would she hear the grimacing blares at night. No longer would she fend for herself from the spite of the other courtesans and the lewd thoughts of men. No longer would she serve under this hellhole.

For once, she wanted to burst into a guffaw. Not out of pure euphoria, but out of arrogance and wicked thrill. She would no longer be a petty slave to those horrid people— and she would be a free woman. She triumphed and she lived and breathed no matter how many times they shoved her face flat to the ground. She eagerly wanted to cackle like a crazy wench till she looked so pathetic— and maybe to others, insulting and downright _mad_.

Because in the end, no matter how she embraced her liberty now, she would still be this sad, pitiful person. Her smooth edges sharpened while her hands were as black and sullied as theirs. The sweet innocence of her mind corrupted from their vile conceptions.

Like them, she was shunned from normalcy.

She was an outcast like the rest.

Well, there was no point crying about it now because she knew about it anyway.

But something did bother her because of that reason.

That faithful night, the auburn-haired woman packed her belongings and tucked the hefty sum of money closely to her clothes. While the customers were idly trifling their time consuming liquor, smoking tobacco laced with opium, or bedding a whore in another room, she would silently use this advantage to flee at this moment. Although, she might encounter two worst case scenarios and that would be if one of those lechers recognized who she was thus causing great problems for her.

And the other one if...

_Forget the other one. He won't be here at this time._

As if her luck ran out, she opened the door to meet those lidded, emerald orbs of his.

Damn it.

"Where are you going?"

"You're not supposed to be here."

"Are you leaving?"

"Yes, I'm leaving."

"From Hongryeon?"

"Obviously."

At that moment, Jae-Ha gazed at her as if he had been whacked in the head and had to process the certain events that took place right after. Returning back to his senses, he stepped forward towards her. "You're escaping out of here?" he asked curiously with an odd luster of interest in his eyes.

He was just stalling her time. She sighed from impatience. "No, I really am _leaving_. My job is finished here."

His thumb cupped his chin while a faint ghost of a smile touched his lips. "I suppose that is good to hear."

Without a minute to spare, she began to walk away from him. "Right."

Chuckling softly to himself, he said teasingly behind her, "Not even a goodbye for me?"

She humored him a staid, passionless, "Goodbye."

"Where will you be staying at?"

"Goodbye, Jae-Ha."

"It's rude to elude questions when asked."

"I don't care."

He held her wrist in a nick of time, faltering her attempt to distance herself further away from him.

She inwardly puled.

"You really planned on leaving me behind without giving me any knowledge about it." Her gaze was not locked with his— did not meet with his at all. All she could offer him was a cold shoulder and the wall of her back only to act as a shield and to be continuously pricked with his words like needles. She did not have to see everything. She already _felt_ it.

"If you didn't make everything so flashy, I might have waited to say a decent goodbye." Of course, that was just an excuse. Sadly, he knew that as well.

"But you wouldn't tell me where you would live by then."

"You'll stalk me all the same."

"Which is why you resorted to commit this underhanded tactic."

"Your point?"

"You don't want to meet me again."

Silence.

This was frustrating.

_Because it would be easier this way._

If she had to be frank to herself for once, what bothered her all this time along before she was going to leave was him. Indeed, it was because of _him_, damn it. His company was one of the things she found as comfort when she resided in Hongryeon no matter how grating the pointless wrangles and ribbing were. But she would depart here soon and because she was too adamant to believe that she was utterly undeserving of his time and his patience.

She would be alone again but if it meant avoiding the spiting arrows of disappointment and rejection then so be it. True, it was cowardly, but who was she to say that she was brave enough to face it this time?

Maybe, he would learn to forget about her one day and meet someone nice and much better than her for a change.

It was for the best. For the betterment of all, she believed.

Well, it would have sounded sweller if the small, pestering ache in her chest ceased grappling her attention.

As if she was mute, she never spoke a word. A response. A lie. Not even a blistering retort.

Just like before.

The descendant of Ryokuryuu sighed depressingly. Crestfallenness cladded his figure. "That really was cruel, Min-Seo." He began to chuckle softly, sadly— almost like a sob.

That alone made her feel the slightest twinge of guilt.

It would be natural if he did just let her go and left her alone for good, but that would just be underestimating his perseverance all this time. Much to her surprise, he pulled her closer to him. His perceptive gaze searched for her cinereal orbs to find the slightest trace of hesitation.

Ah.

And there was. Even if it was faint— and she tried so hard tamping those feelings down before him. What a stubborn woman.

Yet that was all he needed to know. All he needed to confirm to stay persistent.

"But you're forgetting the fact that I truly did wish to seek your company and I don't plan to end it as of yet." His usual, lax smile curled the corners of his mouth, a hint of fondness present in it. "If you really wanted to leave here in the first place, I would have helped you. Let me do the favor now."

Min-Seo sighed both in disappointment, and strangely, relief. "You're not supposed to be stubborn, idiot."

He laughed in turn.

Finally releasing her wrist, he ceased his laughter and queried her quite seriously, "Have you ever been outside before?"

She gripped the strap of her luggage. "No."

"Then, come with me."

"No," was her jib. "What has gotten you concerned about?" the sudden shift in his persona did catch her in muddle the moment he questioned her. Upbeat and elated to grave and interrogative. There was something he knew which she had no inkling about. Probably, something ominous.

As a swashbuckling pirate that raided and mauled even more appalling fiends in the night, Jae-Ha knew that small bit of knowledge most of all. Women were tracked down and abducted like animals by scum in these eerie streets and wandering alone was not the safest notion at hand. He would have thought of her as foolish and thoughtless for recklessly fleeing by herself, but given her current plight and lack of forewarning from the world outside of this brothel he simply accepted it with a nod and understood her instead.

But he was not easily convinced that she could leave unscathed. "It's not safe outside." Was his warning, clipped and leaden. Not safe at all if this place was littered with rascals and henchmen from that vile bastard, Yang Kum-Ji.

Taking note of his sudden solemness, she questioned, "Then where do you suppose I go?"

He dragged her inside of her room and shut the door close. With a hand cupping his chin, he started to formulate ideas of her quick and secure escape. Once his glance landed at the closed window, he had already thought of a good plan though she might not be too fond of it when she hears it. "Hm, this will do." He motioned to the window and opened it.

She looked at him as if he was demented. "I believe there's a door." Came her quip.

"I told you it's not safe outside."

"To the window? I prefer the door if you wish to guarantee my safety."

"Trust me."

He reached for her hand while she stared at it.

The Firelark stated dully, "No."

He pried, "Not even a bit?"

"You're insane—!"

Without her consent, he carried her to the window anyway while she felt the need to wring him for hastily making decisions for her.

"Hold on tight."

"Jae-Ha!"

There were three facts she agreed and loathed to agree with on that night.

One: He did not lie about jumping up to her window that other day.

Two: They were hovering high above the ground.

Three: She discovered that she had a fear of being carried senseless and terrified by an uncanny man who could soar the skies whenever he wished yet _could _plausibly fall if he was graceless with his actions no matter how he assured that he was a born natural with this 'gift'.

At that time, her eyes were closed shut to not witness the horror of a terrible fall. But once she felt their movement rocket and felt the chilly touch of the gale caress her cheeks, she reluctantly opened her ashen orbs to peek and to unexpectedly awe at the sight of the breathtaking midnight sky. It truly was beautiful. For a moment, she wondered if this was what he always saw in his world.

He simpered. "See, it isn't bad, is it?"

Well, it wasn't if you did not look down.

"We're above the ground," she stated as if she was in a trance, and like any sane person that took a quick glance _below_, she was jarred to her nerves. "What do you think you're doing! Put me down!"

"I'm wounded," he said, feigning hurt from her words, as he leaped from rooftop after rooftop. "Especially when my efforts are set in helping you leave safely."

The moment they began to dip down in another fall, her grip on him tightened, almost as if she had grown a set of claws on her hands. "Stop joking around!" she carped, growing sick from the jumping— it was as if her stomach was flopping from each spring. "Put me down!"

It proved to be more difficult scouring a safe place for her to settle when she was frazzled in fright and they kept bickering— him partially at fault for prompting her to rail on to the point she even had to tug his hair _harshly_. Though the farther they were from Hongryeon, the more securer it was because the streets were almost dearth of soldiers. Eventually, he would have to drop her off an inn from here.

Though from some hapless luck, he had made a minuscule miscalculation. True, it was advantageous to leap across the air to resist the perils from below and a less tiring way of traveling, but it was least of his expectations to slip from the roof while he was about to land. As agile as he was, he could not easily judge that _that_ rooftop was at the brink of deterioration, especially with the banter they had.

Fortunately, the height of the building was not that life threatening and he could manage to make their fall a little less dreadful. Though, it did not assure that it could not be prone to injury. There, they were sprawled to the ground in an alleyway. He cursed silently to himself from the throbbing pain from his head and the from his other leg and for not actually listening to her.

Somewhat tipsy herself, the Firelark inspected his injuries, much to his discomfit— maybe, even more so when he saw the bruise from the side of her forehead and the scuff from her hand. She did not have to ask if he was all right as long as he was breathing and because he really did look like he was not in fit condition. With his normal leg sprained, it would be harder to soar above and to land without causing anymore wounds.

"You need to be treated immediately. You have to get up." She mouthed her words as she placed his arm on her shoulder. As ruffled as he looked, what relieved her was the fact that he wasn't profusely bleeding. "Damn, I told you to stop jumping off houses."

Feeling a bit shaken, the descendant of Ryokuryuu chuckled as he endeavored to rise with a wince. "At least, you're farther away from that 'godforsaken place'." He quoted the words she used back then to describe that bordello.

"If you want an answer then I agree," she said swiftly. "But your reckless jumping has gotten you all battered up."

A sudden feeling of vain consciousness panged on his chest, he asked, "Do I really look that terrible?"

"Yes," came her blunt response, which left him cringing. Well, she did not know of any healers in this street, and maybe if she did, she would not know where one resided. "I'll find an inn, but hold still."

"I feel quite ashamed," he uttered under his breath, somewhat embarrassed. "I'm letting a woman carry me."

"You should be," she grasped his arm more securely, supporting his balance underneath him. "You're heavier than me."

* * *

Eventually, the pair found an inn and settled there. Thankfully, the owner was gracious enough to take pity in Jae-Ha's condition and aided to tend his wounds. Min-Seo was grateful for the elderly woman's succor and tolerance with them and gratified her service through paying her for the room and her sympathy, which she did not mind accepting knowing not many resided in her inn anymore.

Once they were left alone, he felt _unnerved_.

If there was anything that heightened his problems other than his injuries that night, it would be the tenacious glare from her gray-slate eyes.

"You owe me an explanation."

Ruffling his hair with a sheepish grin, he said from his mat, "Do I?"

"You **will **tell me everything tomorrow," was her demanding statement as if it meant that he had no escape from telling her the truth behind his jumping stunt earlier. Clearly, it was not normal and she needed to know who or what this man was for possessing such uncanny ability. "After making me go through _that_."

With a shrug, he sighed acceptingly. "Well, I don't really have much of a choice now considering that you're not giving me other choices at all."

All she did was nod at his words and sigh as well as she sat right next to him.

"I am sorry for bringing you in this mess."

She sighed again. "Well, You did say it wasn't safe and I was equally responsible for acting too high-strung so I'm sorry as well." Her utterance was placid yet it held the tone that she was accepting of her own mistakes. Though, what truly arrested him in interest and surprise was the faintest morsel of tenderness that was present when she said her words. "If it makes you feel any less guilty, I am glad you took me away from that horrid place."

This time, he confronted her. "Why did you work there if you hated that place so much?"

A pregnant silence crept.

Sighing deeply, she was reluctant to speak at all.

But maybe...it would not be that complicated disclosing the truth to him, especially after tolerating her this long.

"My mother used to work there as a prostitute because she had so many debts to pay to Choon-Hee," she said calmly even though the memory was still raw and sore when Choon-Hee had stated her this reason when she was a chit. "Unfortunately, she was pregnant with a bastard child then soon died from an ailment after giving birth to me leaving me with her debts."

A twisted smile curved her lips, the edges too sharp that it could hardly be called a natural smile anymore. Her bitterness and ire cracked the placated mask she had worn so well. "And the sad part of this was that before my mother died she sold me to Choon-Hee for twenty years of service to complete the debt," a dry, humorless snicker was released by her mouth. "My own mother didn't even give a damn about me..."

Another roar of laughter, a bit too loud and harsh and dampening. "Well, that's not important anymore because it's all over now."

He was silent from her reasons.

She did not want to look at him. The way he gazed at her at that moment might be different from the last time he still saw her as _her_, not as a pitiful victim or a broken doll. That was what she feared from him all along. That was why she did not wish to confront him. His rejection. His disappointment. All her life no one saw her as _Min-Seo_ but another person, yet with him it relieved her that at least one person could look at her that way— almost as if, he accepted her.

And she wanted to believe that.

But.

"Min-Seo,"

The ginger-haired woman retorted scathingly, "I don't need your pity."

"I don't pity you," his verdant orbs searched for her spiteful ones. "I admire you."

Her movements paused as she drunk every last word he had spoken so dearly to her.

"You didn't deserve that life."

_Yet you strove and triumphed everything._

There is so much strength in her small frame, so bruised and scarred and calloused. She never ran away from her obstacles like he did. She endured, she struggled, and she fought, and that alone made him respect her so much. She did not need him at all because she had the power to free herself in the first place.

Maybe, that was why he was so captivated to stay with her that he could not leave her alone.

Her neck craned to his direction. A calloused hand gently pressed his chest, letting him sink in the flat mat. "And you rest." Her cinereal eyes were soft akin to molten lead. Maybe, she had underestimated him too much. That he really did understand her. That he cared.

He _accepted _her.

And that was enough for her.

Then, it finally occurred to her that he was too close in front of her. Though, all her mind had thought was those eyes— a vibrant shade of moss, of the deepest, lushest forest. Unconsciously, she leaned closer out of fascination. Those crisp, summery pools of green devoured her visage, memorizing the creases and lines of her features and the curve of her lips. Intense, arresting, and craving, yet placid. She leaned while his head tilted. A hand fondly held her cheek.

His lips brushed against hers, so gently, so soft. He reeled her closer, almost entangling her within his strong arms, till she was clinging to him in high hopes he would never release her. Ah. The sweet, intoxicating taste of his mouth with a faint tang of alcohol drove her mad. He was _kissing _her— and damn, she couldn't get enough of it. An unbearable heat pooled in her stomach.

She yelped once she felt her head upon the mat. Her slate-gray irises popped open once he was on top of her, pinning her to the ground. Wait, he wasn't supposed to be—

"_You_—"

He swiftly captured her mouth in an attempt to pipe her down, his own lips curling a bit in content from the surprise in her gaze. His kiss was strong, desperate, and ravenous like a wolf, starving for more and longing so hopelessly to have one lick of her lips as if they were the most exquisite savor he had found. Her fist clenched onto the silken fabric of his clothing the moment he sucked her bottom lip, intoxicating himself with her taste like liquor. To his pleasure, she elicited a moan from the back of her throat.

She broke their kiss, gasping for air as much as he did. "You..." then, she uttered fervently, each syllable shivering from her breath, "Sly bastard."

Her slender hands grasped his neck, igniting another clash of their arduous mouths. Her lips, soft and tender, molded onto his mouth that were so drunk in passion as much as his, inspiring a fire of devotion upon his chest. She was luring him. The moment she grazed her teeth sweetly upon his mouth— no, rather she _bit _him oh so temptingly _good_, he clutched her closer to him, breathing into her scent and desiring more of her lips.

His fingers trailed her neck dipping down to her collar, teasingly tugging it. Another small stifling break apart. "Min-Seo," he whispered in a low, husky voice. Then, he plunged again, pressing his mouth to her gaping one. Kissing her, his tongue ran across her bare bottom lip, which she acquiesced to part open. Ah. He lead her into a passionate dance, stroking and lashing akin to her graceful motions on the pavement.

His hand then skimmed to her shoulder, then down, _down _to the curve of her waist, wasting no time to indulge the feel of her warmth behind the cloth. Finally, she released her lips from his to swallow as much air she could take in while he panted wildly, raggedly. His hand then glided to her hair, twining and winding the locks till it was free to disperse into molten, flaming ringlets. His mouth lightly kissed her jaw, then soothingly to her neck.

"Jae-Ha," the tone of her voice was arresting, hauling his attention so effortlessly. Ah, it meant that this was the end of the line. That he was crossing beyond the border she had drawn for the both of them. He kissed her neck lingeringly for the last time with a pleased smile twisting his lips. How tempting it was to just cross that border and get over with it. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest. Breaking free, he locked his gaze at her.

Min-Seo could feel the sultry breath from his mischievous mouth feverishly fan upon her own plump, damp lips, gaping lightly. A lax, frolic smirk curled his satisfied mouth and he knew ostensibly how it galled her to her wits' end, yet cheekily in his mind, roused her deep within the confines of her fiery and coarse heart. Though, in all honesty, it did take him some time to see her like this before him and an ample enough of patience— well, _a lot _of patience for this night to come.

The adamant lass was sprawled underneath his large frame, both his toned arms placed at the sides of her face. Her auburn locks akin to ignited flames straggled rebelliously to the soft mat, tousled and glorious. His lidded, verdant orbs took notice of her garb as well as it appeared disheveled, her slender legs slightly peeping and her shoulders and neck barring. And there was her face, prissy and amusing. Perfect.

His fingers twirled a ringlet of her hair, tugging it teasingly. "Is there something you are willing to admit, Min-Seo?" Jae-Ha voiced out his query, a hint of frolic amusement and pure interest glossed in his tone.

Her eyes rolled from his smugness. "You're not supposed to stand up right."

He cheekily crooned, "I still have one good leg."

She spat, "I should have broken that one when I had the chance." That earned her a chuckle as response.

He still waited for the satisfying answer his ears craved to hear.

"Well?"

"You kissed me first."

"You kissed me back."

"It was an act out of impulse."

"You seem to enjoy it."

"I know you did."

"You did surprise me, though."

The Firelark huffed as response."That I know how to kiss?"

An amused smirk danced upon his content mouth. "That you know how to _bite_." He whispered sultrily upon her ear in a deep, alluring baritone.

She hated to admit it but she felt stifled— a dying need to squirm away from him. Unfortunately, her ego would not allow it, especially when he already took much satisfaction toying with her heartstrings and perhaps smothering her with his tongue. Her arms simply crossed as she tipped her chin. "And what would that imply?" she questioned sharply.

"I like your flare," was his gallant remark while a charming smile danced upon his lips. "It scorches like fire, but you ignite something in me, dear."

She retorted in a scalding manner, "You just find pleasure in pain."

"Well, I had to think of a way to pay you back in return."

"You could start by..."

Before he could utter a reply, he was awfully dumbstruck when he felt a swift shift in position. His head of green locks perched at the comfort of a cushion while she was above him with her hands pinned at the sides of his head and an amused smirk on her face. Thankfully, she did it quickly as she could to at least not feel the sprain on his leg grow sorer though to be frank, he really did seem to take pleasure at the numb ache pulsing in his leg.

Her slate-gray orbs twinkled in triumph and delight at the nonplussed look in his slightly broadened eyes. "Saying 'thank you' first." She finished her sentence, waiting in anticipation for his response.

He blinked, and then presented her an impressed simper. "You really are full of surprises, Min-Seo."

Her shoulders heaved a shrug. "So I've heard."

"Thank you then."

Hesitant at first, her lips started to quirk mirthfully. A small chortle bubbled from the back of her throat, knowing that she could not brook the blithe that desired to spill from her mouth to slowly shed the layers that she armored to her coarse heart.

Jae-ha was too astonished to utter a word.

She was breathtaking.

Within the Firelark was a lonesome maiden who had not learned how to smile till she was liberated from her cage. She deserved her freedom. Though, he never knew her dazzling smile would radiate in such splendid brilliance that it would captivate him more— snare him into a euphoric bliss, purer and more satisfying than spending a night with an unloving courtesan.

She called in a warm tone, "Jae-Ha,"

He beamed. "Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You are always welcome."

Min-Seo's smile. So beautiful, so free.

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Akatsuki no Yona.


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